Speaker
by iSpeakSarcasms
Summary: Marik hasn't always been technologically savy, and when he breaks something that's important to Malik, the Hikari snaps. Semi A/U. OOC. Implied Bronzeshipping. Tendershipping too if you use a microscope.


_**A/N: Random story I thought of while working on "Oui". I don't expect for it to be more than a two shot, if that. Slight A/U. Warning for OOCness. Marik = Yami Marik. Malik = regular Marik.**_

"Ow..."

"Shut up."

" _Ow_!"

" _Shut up_!"

"Well it _hurts_ , Ryou!"

"You barely have any scars. All the glass seemed to have bounced off you; it's like you're made of rubber!" The white-haired hikari stated as he continued to rub Malik's minimal scars with an antiseptic wipe.

"How exactly did you get punched out of a window again?" Bakura asked, watching from the other side of the living room with Malik's neighbor, who had come over once he'd heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

Shannon scoffed and passed his basketball from one hand to the other. "Fuck all that. A better question is are you tryna hoop after all this gets cleaned up?"

To which Malik responded with a glare in the other man's direction. "You really think I'm gonna play with you after this? I'm _beyond_ sore, bro. I mean, my neck, my back..."

" _My pussy and my crack_ , ayyy." The basketball-head playfully finished, spinning the ball on his finger before turning to the wild-haired yami standing in the far corner of the room. "Ay, are _you_ tryna hoop, bro?"

Before Marik could open his mouth to utter a response, Malik was answering for him. "Nah, he's gonna help me fix this window, since he was the one that broke it."

"I ain't break shit. That was your body that flew threw the glass..."

"After you punched me with the strength of Bane."

Marik cocked a brow, though the heated expression on his face didn't fade. If anything, the statement pissed him off more. First he had to curse him out. Then he had to hit him. Now, he's insulting him, _again_. "Excuse me? Who the fuck is Bane?"

" _Anyway_ ," Ryou interrupted, finishing his dressing of Malik's "wounds" and putting away the tiny First-Aid Kit before a _long_ discussion of comic books could get started. "Bakura's question trumps..."

"Fuck Trump," The blonde's neighbor cut in, finally deciding to take a seat seeing that he wouldn't be going to the court any time soon.

Ryou's eye twitched. "I'm referring to the word, not the president. Anyway, I think everyone here - minus Shannon - wants to know what happened." And then he gestured to the now gaping hole where one of the windows used to be in the Ishtar living room.

There used to be fuchsia curtains and white blinds in the spot, but now all that remained was ripped fabric, destroyed plastic, and a sea of broken glass.

And Malik's blood. That was there as well.

 _What a wretched and finicky little device this "speaker" was. He'd seen Malik use it hundreds of times (and heard the device even more), yet he couldn't even figure out how to turn the damn thing on. His Hikari made it seem so simple. He just flipped a switch on the back of it and sounds came out; it was like magic._ _But the asshole of a device wasn't trying to do that for him, no matter how many times he flipped the switch. It was almost as if it didn't like him, and he wondered just hat kind of charm Malik put on it to where it would only work for himself. The selfish prick._

 _Everything in this house seemed to only work for Malik and his family. The toaster, the blender, the television, what used to be the Hikari's PS4, **everything**. It was like every single thing was Marik proof. But that was okay. He had ways of making this pesky little speaker sing for him..._

 _Malik didn't expect for his yami to wreak havoc in such a short amount of time. He'd literally walked outside to get the mail (Or rather, get **something** that was left for him in the mailbox and he just brought the mail in with it) and came right back. Thirty seconds hadn't even passed. Maybe that's what he got for underestimating the hulking Egyptian._

 _When he walked back into the house his heart sank._

 _Strewn about the coffee table were parts of his Bluetooth speaker. Wires were everywhere, along with several screws and the casing that held everything together. And there was Marik, peeling the copper off of the wiring._ _The sound of letters (probably bills) hitting the ground brought the yami's attention to the fuming teen._

 _"Malik-pretty, how do you work this contraption of yours? I tried flipping the switch like you do, but no sound came out. Work your magic."_

 _Malik didn't respond, he just continued to stare at his now torn apart device. With the speaker built into his phone broken (courtesy of Marik) and his only pair of good - Or rather, ridiculously **loud** \- headphones broken (also courtesy of his yami), his Bluetooth was the only way he could listen to music. **Was**. Without it, there was no more entertainment. Music was his world._ _No more XXXTENTACION while he showered, no more Tyler the Creator while he played basketball..._

 _"Hikari-pretty?"_

 _No more Childish Gambino while he blazed..._

 _"Malik?" Marik called again, wondering why his light had fell eerily silent and had placed his hands atop his head._

 _"You..." Malik tried to begin, but was still too busy morning all of the artists he'd manage to lose in under a minute. There was no more Frank Ocean for his singing moods, no more Tupac or Biggie for when he felt thuggish, no more Beyoncé for when he felt fabulous..._

 _His eyes widened at this revelation. No more Bey..._

 _" **YOU BASTARD**!"_

 _Marik's eyes widened. He'd heard Malik make some loud sounds before (albeit they were always sexual), but he had no idea his light could yell like that._

 _Apparently he'd done something wrong. What exactly he did, he'd yet to figure out. "I'm sorry?" The confused yami offered, but the apology only seemed to incense him even more._

 _"What the fuck is sorry gonna do, you lumbering idiot?"_

 _A sharp pain stabbed into his chest at Malik's diction. He could do without the name-calling. "What did I do?"_

 _Oh, so now he was playing stupid? "How many times have I told you not to touch my shit?"_

 _The yami shrugged. He wasn't counting._

 _"I told you, if you have a question or get curious, just ask me! But you're the cunt that doesn't fucking listen..."_

 _Another sharp pain. He cut deep with that one. "Hikari..."_

 _"And now I don't have a way to listen to music. What the fuck am I supposed to do all day?" Malik fumed, beginning to pace back and forth in an effort to keep himself under control. "You destroy everything you fucking touch!"_

 _That wasn't true. He touched Malik all the time and he wasn't broken yet. At least, not in **his** mind. His light's older siblings could probably beg to differ. With great caution in his every move, Marik walked around the coffee table and over to his very heated Hikari and tried to pull him into an apologetic embrace._

 _But Malik wasn't having any of that and he swatted the yami's hands away. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to strangle this man, and he wanted to be left alone all at the same time. "Don't fucking touch me, bro."_

 _"Come on Pretty-Hikari, I said I was sorry..." He tried again to pull Malik into a hug._

 _The modern teen snapped._ _"Get the fuck off me!" Using his anger as a steroid, Malik placed both hands into Marik's chest and shoved him away as hard as he could._

 _Marik stumbled backwards, the back of his legs hitting the coffee table with enough force to make him fall over it, knocking it over and sending the speaker's contents everywhere. The taller man quickly scrambled to his feet and moved to give Malik an equally hard push, sending the hikari tumbling to the ground. He wasn't anywhere near as upset as Malik was, but he'd be damned if anyone was going to knock him off his feet and get away with it._

 _If Malik was mad before, he was **livid** now. "Bastard," he growled as he jumped up and threw a punch, the blow connecting with Marik's face so hard it made his hand hurt. He'd feel it once the adrenaline rush wore off._

 _Anyone else probably - no, definitely - would have laid down after taking a hit like that to the temple. Especially from Malik, the boy had hands. Marik, however, wasn't anyone else; and he had the uncanny ability to absorb punches like they were nothing. If anything it stung a little, but all it did was piss him off. Two could play at that game._ _The yami drew back and planted his large fist right into the younger man's sternum, effectively launching him off of his feet. Unfortunately the only thing around to break Malik's fall was one of the living room windows._

 _He felt all of the air leave his body in a rush as a choked sound escaped him. Shards of something jagged poked him through his shirt and drove into his chocolate skin as he made contact with his front yard. All of a sudden it was like he was trying to breathe through a straw with an elephant sitting on his chest, as he was wheezing like a desperate asthmatic. He heard footsteps moving quickly towards him before his auburn-skinned neighbor leaned over him._

 _" **Daaaaaamn** son, you just got knocked the fuck out," Shannon said before tucking his basketball between his right arm and his body. He stepped over Malik and stuck his head through the now open window, but once he saw the other man's seething yami, he turned his attention back to Malik. "Yo, you tryna go hoop though?" _

"I bet you won't hit that n* again, though," Shannon pointed out once the recollection was done.

If it were anyone else that he'd just lost a fight to, Malik would have laughed in his neighbor's face. He never backed down from a challenge. But the large, blackish-purple bruise in the middle of his chest and the scorching ache that radiated through his torso with every breath he took would be enough to keep him at bay.

He scowled at his athletic friend. "Don't you have somewhere to go?"

"I'm tryna go hoop, but no one wants to get these buckets with me."

"All of this over a speaker, Malik? It was that deep?" Ryou asked, changing the subject as he put the coffee table back on all fours.

"He took away my livelihood..." (Translation: He took away my Beyoncé)

"I'll just steal you another speaker..."

"No the hell you won't!" The thinnest of the group interjected, giving his yami his own version of a death glare.

But Ryou was far too cute and doe-like to be intimidating, and with a smirk Bakura challenged, "Who won't?"

Before the lightest Hikari could offer a rebuttal, his eyes widened, as did everyone else's. Then, he turn to Malik's sister, who was standing in the open front doorway. "Shannon, I'll go hoop with you. My three-pointer can always get better." And then Ryou was out of the door, along with his yami and Malik's jocky neighbor, hurriedly leaving the blonde pair to face a shocked and slowly angering Ishizu.

The woman looked at her now empty front window before looking to the floor, taking in all the bits of glass, the broken blinds, and her destroyed curtains. Her gaze then fell on her brother.

Malik pointed to Marik.

Ishizu turned to the yami.

Marik pointed at Malik.

For a good while the woman said nothing, her heated gaze just shifted between the two nervous looking men. Then, she quietly left, closing the front door behind her and inadvertently knocking the last shard of glass out of the window.

Both Egyptians quickly made their way to the kitchen, where a broom and two trash bags were acquired. The unspoken threat was clear: clean this mess up and cover the window before she got back or they weren't going to have a place to stay.

 _ **A/N: Short. Hopefully funny. It's kind of implied Bronzeshipping. Tendershipping too, if you squint. Hope you enjoyed.**_


End file.
